


Craft

by Hermaline75



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternative Universe - Historical, Anal Sex, Historical Inaccuracy, Inspired By Tumblr, M/M, Made up magical rules, Oral Sex, Witchcraft, probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 07:46:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3480095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hermaline75/pseuds/Hermaline75
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor is a blacksmith who hates the injustice of witch trials and decides to put a stop to them. </p><p>Typical that he would do this the one time they actually caught one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Craft

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by one of those 'imagine your OTP' posts, idea completely stolen from kingloptr's tags on it and written ridiculously quickly, so please point of spelling/grammar errors.
> 
> (Also I did literally no historical research. I mean we must be roughly 1610 in Britain I guess during the reign of James the-first-and-sixth even though I can't actually remember when he ruled and... Hey, it's not important.)

It wasn't like this was a common thing. It happened maybe once or twice a decade, when the Witchfinder General stalked the countryside, choosing his victims and being paid handsomely for his trouble.

It sickened Thor. He knew the scriptures well enough, but he also knew about the greed of man and the fact that paying per witch executed meant that the number convicted had increased exponentially.

He knew the time was upon them again when the Witchfinder came to his door, asking for his horse to be shod and inquiring after Thor's father who had been the blacksmith when he had last visited. 

"Gone into sleep without waking," Thor said gruffly, holding the heavy creature still. "And my mother dead of grief."

"A witch's work no doubt. It is right that I am summoned here."

Thor refused his offer of a blessing. He did not wish a murderer's hand upon him. The man clearly did not recall that he had killed Thor's dearest friend not five years previous, tortured and killed her for daring to know of cures and care.

There would probably be many alive today if she had lived to tend them. Children still with parents, wives still with husbands. Jane had been no witch, of that Thor was certain.

The Witchfinder eyed him suspiciously as he left and Thor idly wondered if he was marked for the stake for refusing holy touch. Then again, as the only blacksmith for miles around, surely he was too valuable to kill.

Nearly a fortnight passed with no disturbances. They were scouring the woods it seemed, seeking out the hermits and the secluded. Fear laced the village, shutters tightly closed and voices hushed.

It was a sudden change. One moment even the birds seemed silent, the next a crowd was outside, shouting excitedly, baying for blood. Thor stood at the door of the cold forge watching as they passed, dragging a bound figure. Their head was shaved like all suspected witches, skin bearing bruises and scars, dressed in stained sackcloth and struggling desperately against unyielding shackles.

Thor's hammer was suddenly in his hand as he heard the proclamation read out. The man - and he was a little amazed to find it was a man as their rate of conviction was far less than that of women, especially the elderly - was found guilty of witchcraft and inciting men to unnatural sexual acts by means of shape-shifting, incantation and communing with the devil. He was sentenced to be hung from the neck and then burned until dead.

It was a split-second decision. No more. No more of this fear-brought slaughter. Thor walked calmly through the waiting crowd, approaching the makeshift platform from which the Witchfinder was speaking.

The sight of him climbing the rough wooden steps seemed to shock them into silence for a moment until he stood between the shivering victim and his captors.

"What are you doing, blacksmith?" one of the General's men asked.

Thor gestured with his hammer in what was both an unthreatening way, and one with clear intent.

"I am protecting this man," he said simply. "This is wrong and I will not allow it. Does not the Bible command, thou shalt not kill? What right have we to decide who lives and dies? To judge is not for the likes of us."

The crowd murmured at his words. He knew he was well-liked in the whole county, with a reputation for fairness and compassion. He hoped the people would rally around him if needs be.

"Clearly, the witch has seduced the blacksmith. He means to save his demon lover from the flames."

Thor's cheeks burned at such an accusation. His desires, whatever they may me, had no influence on this belief. He turned to the crowd angrily.

"We all stood by while they murdered Jane Foster. How many children in this village were born safely with her help? How many mother's lives saved? How many injuries treated and sicknesses healed? And how many lost since her skills were taken from us?"

He saw from their faces that they were with him. There was not a house in the village that Jane had not helped at one time or another and her loss was felt deeply. A single shout of agreement turned into more as the Witchfinder's men surrounded the platform, Thor swinging his hammer in warning.

"I take responsibilty for this man," he said. "And I will not hesitate to use force if he is threatened."

The moment he stepped from the platform, the villagers crushed forward to destroy it, throwing stones and punches until the Witchfinders fled. Their desire for violence was satisfied by setting the empty stake alight and watching it burn.

Not that Thor noticed. He had taken the accused man into his house, barring the door behind them just in case.

"Please," the man said, voice hoarse and parched, raising his shackled hands. "Blacksmith, please."

"You need to drink first."

He tipped some weak beer between the man's lips, watching his throat working, taking long draughts of the liquid.

"Please."

It was difficult but not impossible to remove the shackles. The man braced against the anvil, whimpering as Thor sawed and beat and twisted the metal until finally, _finally_ , they released with a heavy clunk. The man shied away from the anvil as though it was burning him.

"Better?" Thor asked.

"More than you know," the man replied. "And now I should leave."

Thor scoffed. "You are in no fit state to go anywhere. Stay here with me. Eat. Get your strength up."

The man looked him over before holding out a blood-stained hand, some of his fingers crooked and broken.

"I am Loki. And you are Thor, the blacksmith. I have heard of you."

Thor sat down on the opposite side of his work bench, in the chair that had once been his father's, and carefully placed his hand on top, very gently so as not to hurt him.

"Really?" he asked mildly. "My reputation goes even into the forest?"

"I refused to cast a love spell on you not eight months ago. The young lady was very upset. But that's not the kind of thing I do."

Thor blinked. Was this some form of dark humour? To joke about how close he was to death? He refused to be laughed at. He could play along.

"What is the kind of thing you do?"

Loki looked at him, head on one side. "You want to see?"

Thor found himself nodding and Loki grinned, raising his hands above his head dramatically. His fingers snapped back into place easily, the raw weals on his wrists healing before his eyes. But most distractingly of all were the waves of glossy black hair that grew from his head, tumbling down to frame his face, the sackcloth changing and stretching to soft, dark leather.

Loki didn't even flinch as Thor brandished a finger towards him.

"Witch," he breathed, Loki inclining his head in acknowledgement.

"Even the Witchfinders get lucky sometimes. Like with the shackles. I'm sure they don't actually know that pure iron has such a weakening effect on people like me, but it certainly turned me from a wildcat to a kitten. I was taken in my sleep, bound before I knew where I was. Even if they had been rusted, I might have had a chance."

Thor reeled. He had saved a witch. A real witch, who was calmly sitting in his home like nothing was wrong.

"Relax, Thor. I am not likely to harm you, am I? You just saved me from a horrible death. Even if I wanted to, this whole room is filled with iron. I wouldn't last a second against you. Be calm."

"What do you want?"

And now Loki was blinking at him in question. "What do I want? Why, to reward you of course. To thank you. Anything you desire."

He was smiling, smiling knowingly and Thor felt himself flush.

"I do not want magic," he said.

"How fortunate that I was not offering magic then."

He stood up and walked around the bench to join Thor, leaning down to whisper in his ear.

"I know about you, Thor. I see the want for affection, companionship, pleasure, it's written all over your face. A healthy young man like you should have married long ago and have a tribe of little blacksmiths by now. But that's not what you want, is it?"

His hand was slipping down Thor's chest, sliding beneath his jerkin and rubbing, finding his nipples and tweaking them gently, making Thor gasp and writhe.

"I don't... I don't need payment."

"It's not payment. It's a gift. A shared gift. Just let me..."

Thor's patience gave suddenly. He grabbed blindly at Loki's arm and shoved it away, getting out of his chair to slam him up against the wall. For a second Loki looked at him in challenge, sighing gently, and Thor knew he was lost. He surged forwards, forcing their mouths together, his tongue sliding into Loki's mouth and tasting ash and spice. The fingers of one hand tangled in his hair, the other ripping at his own belt while Loki moaned against him.

The second his cock was freed, Loki fell to his knees, hands gripping Thor's thighs tightly as he swallowed him down in a single action. Thor groaned and leant against the wall, arching over Loki and looking down to where his dark head was bobbing, lips making obscene sounds and moans sending vibrations through Thor's whole body.

He nearly collapsed when Loki pulled off with an extra hard suck, looking up at Thor through heavy lashes.

"Fuck me, blacksmith," he whispered. "Take me, now. I'm ready for you."

Feeling like at any moment he would wake up, Thor swept his bench clean, tools falling to the ground with an immense clatter. He seized Loki around the waist and shoved him against it, watching as he lay back, eyes bright and dark with lust.

Yes, he'd had this dream many times, a beautiful man laid out for him, tight around his cock, crying out for him. But never so vividly as this, soft skin revealed from beneath leather, the sharp scent of his own desire, desperate little noises from them both.

He stripped Loki naked, determined to see all of him, every inch of newly unmarred skin, the rise and fall of his chest, the contrast of his blood-filled cock and dark hair, the rosy entrance below.

"And you," Loki begged. "Off, take it all off. Want to see."

Thor scrambled to obey, feeling very unclean and dusty but letting Loki drag him close with his legs, sitting up to run his hands across his chest again, biting his lip in anticipation in a way Thor couldn't resist. 

He was in a frenzy, his body demanding that he take, claim, defile, fuck, but...

"I have no oil," he said suddenly, watching as Loki rolled his eyes.

"And I am a witch," he said simply. "When I say I'm ready, I mean what I say."

Thor curiously ran his thumb down to Loki's hole, finding it wet and open, like he'd been prepared for hours. And then those legs were back, wrapping around him, pulling him closer.

"Fuck me," Loki breathed. "Fill me up. Give me everything, make me take it all..."

His cock caught on the rim and he gave up on thinking, slamming his hips forwards into welcoming heat with a groan. Loki moaned, back arching, face open and eyes shut with pleasure.

It was instinctive. Thor's first uneven thrusts soon gave way to deeper, harder strokes, each being met by Loki bucking upwards to meet it. Eventually Thor seized his hips, tilting them upwards to pound into him, fingers digging into milky flesh and pleased by every sound from Loki's mouth.

"Oh, Thor... Yes... Oh, keep going, please, so good."

He was close, he could feel it, the irresistible draw of his desires laid out for him proving too much.

He lowered Loki's body, getting a whine of disapproval that turned into a happy moan as Thor wrapped a hand around his leaking cock.

"Want to make me come?" he asked. "Yeah? Making it good for me?"

"Want to see you spill while I'm fucking you."

His hips were moving of their own accord, setting a relentless pace, chasing his own pleasure in a willing body while his hand worked desperately.

One of Loki's hands joined his, guiding him, his body jerking and letting out high little cries that just spurred Thor on until he felt the wet spatter of seed against his fingers.

Loki grabbed at his wrist and pulled, taking his fingers into his mouth, moaning as he sucked his own spend from them.

It was enough of a sight to finish Thor, joining with the tightening of Loki's inner muscles to make him unable to resist his climax, gasping it out and barely hearing Loki's moan of triumph.

He looked down at the witch for a moment, panting, unsure what to do now, until Loki pulled him forward to kiss once more. His softened cock slipped from his flesh, both of them groaning at the sensation.

"Did you make the right decision saving me?"

Thor nodded helplessly as Loki chuckled. He felt his clothes fold around his body, lacing themselves in a way that somehow didn't worry him, leaving him fully dressed and clean. Loki hopped off the table and waved a hand, the tools leaping from the floor as though they'd never been moved.

"I need an apprentice," Thor said, cursing his tongue even as the words came out.

Loki looked at him for a moment before picking up Thor's heavy gloves from beside the anvil and slipping them on before picking up a horseshoe from the scrap pile.

"Doesn't burn," he said in wonder. "Which is becoming increasingly rare in my profession. Maybe it is time for a career shift."

"So you will? You'll stay here and be safe, with me?"

Loki smiled wickedly at him. "Why, Thor. They will say I bewitched you."

Thor considered the possibility and quickly dismissed it.

"You really didn't have to," he said.


End file.
